


Strangled by the Red String of Fate

by idlestories



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), But refuses to acknowledge it, Canon Era, Deliberate misinterpretation of the word compatible, Humor, M/M, Red String of Fate, Tagging sex acts is weird but they sure are in there, Very Reluctant Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:41:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27596324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idlestories/pseuds/idlestories
Summary: “It has its roots in a legend from the east, sire. I believe it’s called the red string of fate.”“Fate?” Arthur said incredulously. “What, is he going to be the one to kill me?”“Getting more likely by the minute,” Merlin supplied.“Shut up, Merlin.”Gaius held up a weary hand. “Legend has it that the string connects people to the person with whom they are most compatible.” There was a beat of silence.“You havegotto be kidding me.”
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 82
Kudos: 804
Collections: Merthur Fics





	Strangled by the Red String of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> my hand slipped and 10k of whatever this is just kind of happened. i finished it like twenty minutes ago. this is...dumb, please enjoy.
> 
> for context: arthur found out about merlin's magic a month ago but Absolutely Refuses to acknowledge it, look at it, or talk about it. they are Unhappy with each other.

The guards were getting closer. Merlin looked around and over his shoulder before waving a hand, knocking over a stall in the opposite direction. Camelot’s finest, who had somehow still not caught on to that one, obligingly followed the sound. Merlin sighed and glared at the girl whose fault this was, who was still fumbling in her bag. She looked up and paused, noticing they were no longer being pursued.

“Thank you, I –”

“You really should be more careful,” he said resignedly, ignoring the incredulous sound from the Gaius-voice that lived in the back of his head. She nodded distractedly, and dropped a handful of items on the ground. She cursed, and Merlin bent to retrieve them. He frowned.

“This is – these are love potion ingredients,” he said disapprovingly.

She grinned. “My specialty. You wouldn’t believe what people will pay for –” She trailed off at Merlin’s grimace. The memory of a dosed Arthur was not one that faded easily. “Do you want – as a thank you?”

“What? No. You really shouldn’t mess with these, you know.”

She shrugged. “Some other token, maybe? Vengeance? Want me to give someone the clap? Are you sure you wouldn’t like one of these? They’re very good.”

“It’s not true, though, is it? It’s not real.”

“No one else seems to care. Real, huh?” She looked thoughtful, then lit up. “I’ve got the very thing, actually. You’ll be my first tester.”

Merlin shook his head. “I told you, I don’t want –” But she had already taken his hand in her two and even as he tried to pull away she whispered a long incantation. His hand felt very cold, then hot, which itself was promptly replaced by pins and needles. She looked up, satisfied, as her eyes faded back to normal.

He wrenched his hand away and shook it out, glaring at her. “What did you do?”

She raised her eyebrows. “I gave you a gift. Some people spend their whole lives searching for them, you know. I’ve just handed you a map, some gratitude wouldn’t go amiss.”

Merlin was torn between anger and confusion. He clenched his jaw and looked at his hand in the dim light, zeroing in on the thick red string suddenly tied around his little finger. Automatically, he pulled at it, but it wouldn’t budge.

“What is this? What did you mean looking for them? A map?”

She just smiled. “Just follow it.” She looked over his shoulder to check the town was still clear, then turned on her heel and took off into the dark. Merlin stared after her, his hand still held out in front of him. The frayed end of the string fluttered weakly in the direction of the castle in the still night air.

“Just follow it, she says. To my fucking doom, no doubt. Why do I bother?” he muttered, giving up and beginning to trudge back to the castle, pulling and biting at the string to no effect.

* * *

“Gaius,” he announced, throwing open the door to their chambers. Gaius raised an eyebrow. Merlin brandished his hand at him. Gaius frowned.

“What have you done to yourself now?”

“Who said it was me? I helped a girl escape the guards after she was seen doing magic – they’re getting more careless by the day, I tell you.” Gaius shot him a politely incredulous look, which was ignored. “She was selling bloody love potions as well. Offered me one as a thank you, and obviously I said no, so she went and – and did something!”

“Something.”

Merlin pointed furiously at his finger. “Something!”

Gaius sighed and reached for his glasses, beckoning Merlin closer and examining his hand.

“Does it hurt? Is anything actually wrong?”

“There’s a magical, unbreakable string on my finger and I can’t get it off and I don’t know what it does, is that wrong enough for you?” He took a deep breath at Gaius’s unimpressed stare. “It’s been a long day,” he muttered.

“Merlin, what did she actually say?”

“That I should be grateful, can you believe that? Something about how people search for them their whole lives and I should follow it, whatever that means. Then she took off!” Gaius paused in his examination and took off his glasses. “…Gaius?”

Gaius dropped Merlin’s hand with a dismissive snort. “For God’s sake Merlin, where do you find these people? I thought that was just an old wives’ tale.”

“Find them? I was hardly looking, was I? Wait, what old wives’ tale? What is it?”

“Oh, you know. The red string of fate that connects soulmates,” Gaius said calmly.

“Excuse me?”

“The person you’re most compatible with.” He smiled benevolently at Merlin, who remained frozen in horror.

“How do I get rid of it?” he said immediately. Gaius frowned again. “It won’t come off. Is there a spell? Do I chop off my finger?” He looked briefly hopeful at that and Gaius smacked him upside the head. “Ow! What?”

“It’s not a bad thing, Merlin,” he said gently. “Might save us all some time, in fact,” he added under his breath. Merlin narrowed his eyes at him. “Well, why don’t you want to know?”

Merlin sighed. “Don’t you think enough of my life is controlled by destiny as it is? Maybe I want some choice in the matter.”

Gaius looked doubtful. “Well, we can look for a way to undo it tomorrow. Sit down and have some – Merlin, stop looking at the fire, that is not a solution.”

Merlin made a face and slouched over to the table. He was just about to throw himself down dramatically when the door burst open for the second time that evening and Arthur strode in, already talking.

“Gaius, I think there’s a sorce-” He stopped abruptly at the sight of Merlin. His mouth tightened. “Of course you’re here, too.”

“I literally live here, I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe it’s ma-”

Arthur gave him a nasty look then turned back to Gaius, who was eyeing him warily and like he mightily regretted not locking the door an hour ago.

“What’s this?” he demanded, holding up his hand. He pointed unnecessarily at the red string around his little finger.

Gaius slowly turned to face Merlin, who had been muttering to himself. He realised he was being stared at and looked up at Arthur. He froze.

“No,” he declared. He nodded decisively. “No,” he repeated. He looked at Gaius, whose mouth was doing something interesting. Almost as though he were fighting a laugh. Which couldn’t be right, because this wasn’t funny at all.

Merlin looked down at his own hand with both a creeping sense of dread and a creeping awareness of the sensation of the string pulling in the direction of the door. Towards – no.

Arthur cleared his throat and looked between them, belatedly realising that Merlin was no longer looking at him and following his gaze downward. Merlin closed his eyes.

“Merlin.”

If he ignored him, maybe he would go away.

“Merlin, what did you do?”

He opened his eyes. “Why does everybody keep asking me that? Why would it be me?”

Arthur gave him a very pointed look. “Do you really want me to answer that?” he said, in a tone that quite clearly indicated the presence of a correct answer.

Merlin paused. “No?”

“Correct. Now what did you do?”

“Nothing!” Arthur waited. “I got spelled,” he muttered.

“Spelled? By who, it – oh, it doesn’t matter. What kind of rubbish spell is this?” he said accusingly. “Are they hoping to bring down the kingdom by cutting off the circulation to my little finger?”

“Bring down the – oh, my god, could you be any more – Who said it was about you, you arse?” Merlin said disbelievingly.

“Oh, of course, Merlin, it must be about you. You can tell me what you did, then, seeing as – ”

Gaius cleared his throat and Merlin whipped his head around. “Gaius don’t you _dare_ –”

Gaius looked at him innocently. “Arthur is my patient. I have a duty.”

“To ruin my life,” Merlin muttered.

“Ignore him,” Arthur said. “How – No, you know what? I don’t even want to know. You know what this is.” It wasn’t a question.

Gaius avoided looking at Merlin where he was burning a hole in the side of his head with his eyes.

“It has its roots in a legend from the east, sire. I believe it’s called the red string of fate.”

“Fate?” Arthur said incredulously. “What, is he going to be the one to kill me?”

“Getting more likely by the minute,” Merlin supplied.

“Shut up, Merlin.”

Gaius held up a weary hand. “Legend has it that the string connects people to the person with whom they are most compatible.” There was a beat of silence.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me.”

Merlin’s head was back in his hands. “Are we very sure it can’t be about killing?”

“Me and – We’re not – We can’t be – ” Arthur sputtered.

“Tell me about it,” Merlin said gloomily.

“I mean, we would –”

“Strangle each other,” Merlin agreed.

Arthur looked helplessly at Gaius, who shrugged. “That’s what it is. Harmless, really. Are we done here?”

Arthur’s eyes were a little wild. “What? No. Merlin, fix it,” he commanded.

Merlin raised his head. “Are we really doing this now?”

“Fix it.”

“You’re the one who decided we weren’t talking about this. Also, and more importantly, get it through your thick skull that _I didn’t do this_.”

“You did _something_.”

“Boys,” Gaius said loudly. “I have told you what I can. If you insist on continuing, please take it somewhere else.”

Merlin held his glare at Arthur for a final second then switched targets, shooting an unmoved Gaius a similarly venomous look.

“Fine,” he snarled, throwing his hands up. “God knows I want rid of it too.” He stomped up to his room and made a lot of noise before returning with two large and illegal books. Arthur’s gaze landed on said books for half a second before he closed his eyes. Merlin rolled his and made for the door.

“Come on then.” He brushed past Arthur and yelped as their hands were automatically drawn together. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

They left, bickering.

* * *

Merlin strode into Arthur’s chambers and lit the candles at the table with a wave of his hand. Arthur made a pained noise and Merlin whirled around, pointing a finger at him.

“I have let you have your stupid, head-in-the-sand plausible deniability for long enough. If you want me to fix this, you’re going to have to look at me,” he said viciously, slamming both books down and pulling out a chair.

Arthur looked taken aback. “Merlin, I –”

He cut him off. “You look through this one,” he said shortly, sliding one of the books across to the opposite position and opening his own. He put his elbows on the table and resolutely ignored Arthur staring at him before reluctantly opening the other book.

He made it half an hour before Arthur’s sighing and fidgeting finally reached his last nerve and danced on it. Arthur had given up all pretence at research a few minutes ago and was devoting all of his attention to poking and pulling at the string, even cautiously trying to cut it with a pocket knife. He cut himself and cursed, raising his knuckle to his lips. Merlin rubbed at his temple.

“If you keep playing with that, you’ll get hair on your palms.”

Arthur jumped and flushed, but shot him a dirty look. “So fix it then. Haven’t you found anything?”

“You’ll be the first to know, believe me.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and went back to pretending to read. Merlin waited.

“Do you really hate me that much?” he said casually. Merlin’s head snapped up. He had been expecting an insult.

“What? No. You’re my – or at least we used to – You don’t want this, either, do you?” he finished weakly.

“No,” Arthur said quickly, picking at the thread again. Merlin sighed and closed the book. “Compatible,” Arthur said quietly, lips tugging upward. Merlin let out a huff of laughter and the tension that had followed them into the room relaxed. He stared at the page again, rereading the same paragraph he’d been on for ten minutes.

Suddenly Merlin sat up straighter. “All the books talk about is compatibility,” he said slowly. Arthur raised an eyebrow. “It doesn’t say what kind.”

“So?”

Merlin opened his mouth and closed it. He tried again. “So what if it’s a – a physical thing?”

Arthur looked at him like he’d lost his mind, and Merlin opened his mouth to defend himself, but Arthur’s expression changed and turned thoughtful.

“Would it – I mean do you think it would get rid of it if we -?”

Merlin made a face. “Not sure. Not sure anyone has ever wanted to get rid of it,” he said quietly.

Arthur nodded slowly to himself, his face taking on that determined cast that usually filled Merlin with dread. He thought about it. “Well,” he said, avoiding Merlin’s gaze. “Worth a shot, right?” He met his eyes.

Merlin looked at him suspiciously. “I…suppose? Do you want to –”

“To get rid of the – the,” Arthur started quickly, searching for the right word. “Curse,” he said, snapping his fingers.

Merlin fought a smile for the first time all day. “Curse,” he echoed, looking pointedly at the relatively unobtrusive red string.

“Spell, enchantment, whatever,” Arthur said irritably. Merlin considered him. He sat back and looked him up and down, vindictively pleased at the way Arthur bristled at the notion anyone would even need to think about such an offer. He drummed his fingers on the table impatiently. “Well? It was your idea.”

Merlin looked at him for another moment and then stood, abruptly. He held out a hand. Arthur rose to meet him, expression uncertain. He raised a hand as if to touch Merlin, to take the hand, but stopped himself, his fist closing on air. He moved awkwardly, unsure where to start.

Merlin gave a small smile and took pity on him, closing the gap and pulling him into a gentle kiss with a hand on the upper arm. Arthur made a soft sound of surprise, but quickly kissed back and let Merlin put his arms around his waist.

His arms were still hovering by his sides, and Merlin smiled against his lips and pulled them to his own waist, but it seemed that all Arthur needed was permission, as he changed tactics and brought one hand up to the back of Merlin’s neck to pull him closer.

Merlin tried very hard not to think about how right it felt or how much he’d missed him, these past few weeks.

Instead he just let it happen, more relaxed than he’d been in forever. This was easy, he could do this part. He pulled Arthur’s hips tighter against his own, satisfied at the little intake of breath it caused then pleasantly surprised as Arthur sucked on his lower lip, growing bolder and scraping it with his teeth as the kiss deepened.

He put one hand on Arthur’s chest and broke away to look at him. Arthur looked as put out as he could manage with swollen lips and a slightly glazed expression. Merlin bit his lip.

“Have you – before?”

“What? Of course I have, really, Merlin.” Again, the indignation failed to land somewhat, but he raised an eyebrow and tried his best.

Merlin shrugged. “Just asking. Not something we ever talked about, when –” _when we used to talk_ , he completed silently, before shaking his head. “Not something we ever talked about.” Arthur was still looking at him strangely, so he pressed lightly at his hip and walked him back until his back was against the wall before diving back in.

He slid a hand up Arthur’s back under his shirt, relishing the novelty of permission to linger, of not having to avoid touching. He decided to speed matters up and switched to the front of his chest, never breaking the rhythm of the kiss as his hand drifted up to brush a thumb over one of Arthur’s nipples. He pinched it lightly, without warning, and was rewarded with a very interesting sound.

Arthur retaliated with his own wandering hand, brazenly reaching for the front of Merlin’s trousers and pressing down. Merlin laughed a little breathlessly, struck suddenly by how easily their old push and pull translated to this.

He pulled away and kissed the underside of Arthur’s jaw, forcing him to tilt his head back against the wall as he worked his way down before stopping to suck what would be a very impressive mark onto his neck. He suspected he would pay for that later, but drunk on the feel of Arthur’s pulse beneath his lips, he found he couldn’t quite bring himself to care.

Predictably, Arthur could. Sort of.

“You can’t just – ah – mark me like that,” he said weakly. “People will – people will see, Merlin –” Merlin shut him up with a kiss, which as a tactic would have solved a great number of problems over the years, then pulled back to see Arthur’s lack of conviction written all over his face. He looked more than a little wrecked already, pupils big and mouth red and wet.

Merlin smirked, but Arthur caught him and narrowed his eyes, stopping him from leaning back in with a hand on his chest. He looked into his eyes as he pushed him back towards the bed. The back of Merlin’s knees hit the end of the bed and he sat, looking up at Arthur with the smile still playing on his lips, head tilted.

Arthur leant down as if to kiss him, then reconsidered and reached for the hem of Merlin’s shirt in question. Merlin shrugged and let Arthur pull it over his head easily. Arthur looked at him shamelessly and Merlin leaned back to let him. He blinked at the old, circular burn scar on his chest and absently reached out to trace it. He paused, met Merlin’s eyes and placed his hand directly over it and pushed him to lie down.

They shifted, Arthur braced over Merlin as he took his own turn, choosing a soft spot on Merlin’s pale collarbone to mark, licking the spot when he was done. Merlin felt the cool air hit it and exhaled slowly as Arthur reached down again, looking up triumphantly as he discovered Merlin was fully hard, now.

Merlin rolled his eyes at the familiar arrogance and knocked Arthur’s elbow so he fell down beside him, scowling until Merlin rolled closer and kissed him, licking into his mouth, one hand on his hip.

He was still surprised at how natural it felt, and, if he was honest, grateful for the buzz of arousal as it drowned out his thoughts about how tired he was, or the bloody string, or the way Arthur couldn’t even look at him when he did magic. Even the passing thought hurt and he bit at Arthur’s lip to distract himself further, reaching for the front of his trousers.

Arthur caught his hand where it was poised at the laces and stopped him, detaching himself and letting go of Merlin’s wrist to press him back flat on the bed. He moved down Merlin’s chest with his mouth, sucking lightly at a nipple on his way before reaching his waist and looking up in question.

Merlin nodded, or at least he thought he did, but it’s possible he was distracted by the sight of Arthur’s hands on the laces, fumbling only for a second before his deeply irritating natural grace kicked in. Coherent thought returned just in time for him to play his part and lift his hips, allowing Arthur to pull the trousers free and reveal his hard and leaking cock.

Arthur took it lightly in his fingers and mouthed at the side. Merlin swore, and he grinned, curling his hand around the base properly before taking the tip into his mouth and starting to move.

Merlin pressed his head back into the pillow and bit his lip as he felt Arthur’s tongue move against him. He fought the urge to tangle his fingers in Arthur’s hair, instead clenching the sheets in his fists as Arthur sped up. He felt the beginnings of a build to orgasm rise in him and closed his eyes, only for Arthur to pull off.

Merlin’s head shot up accusingly. Arthur grinned.

“Have I done this before?” he said mock-thoughtfully, voice a little raspy. “I don’t know, what do you think, Merlin?”

“Fuck you, Pendragon.”

Arthur smiled wider and moved up to Merlin’s head again, stopping by his ear. “Later,” he whispered, and Merlin took a moment to hate that his heart sped up at that before Arthur’s lips were on his again, tongue pushing into his mouth as he reached down and took his cock in his hand in slow, torturous pulls.

He arched up into it and Arthur obligingly sped up his hand, propping himself up on an elbow to watch Merlin’s face and, by some latent psychic power, timing the moment he was about to come almost to the second. At said moment, Arthur moved back down the bed and hollowed his cheeks around Merlin’s cock to catch most of it.

Merlin cried out and clenched his fist so hard it hurt. He felt his pulse in the finger with the string on it, but pushed it out of his mind. He let out a long breath as his orgasm passed, slowly straightening out his hand and looking down at Arthur.

Arthur pulled off and sat back. He hadn’t quite got all the come, and where he caught a little wetness at the corner of his mouth he brushed at it with his thumb, then licked it off nonchalantly, all the while looking Merlin in the eye.

Faintly, in the back of his mind, Merlin acknowledged that he might be thinking about that particular image until he died. Possibly as he died.

He let his breathing return to normal before sitting up and wordlessly gesturing at the bed for Arthur to take his turn in that position. Arthur stood just long enough to strip then lay back, a trace of smugness still on his face. Merlin ignored him, reaching over him to rummage in the bedside drawer. Practically living, as he did, in this room and being, as he was, nosy by nature, he didn’t need to ask to know about the little jar of oil at the back of the drawer. He held it up and waited.

Arthur simply raised an eyebrow, a look of challenge in his eyes. “I did promise, didn’t I?”

“Don’t be a prat,” Merlin said, but it was automatic, lazy, no sharp edges, rolling off his tongue the way it used to. Arthur just smirked and slid a pillow under his own hips before putting his arms behind his head and looking at Merlin expectantly.

Merlin couldn’t fathom how someone could be so annoying without saying a word, but the flare of irritation was short-lived and swiftly replaced by appreciation at what that particular position did for Arthur’s chest.

He took care of both his own distraction and the annoying look on Arthur’s face by leaning down for a kiss, fumbling blindly for the lid of the jar and shoving Arthur’s legs apart with a hand. Arthur went with no hesitation, his attention apparently diverted by the kissing, one hand draped over Merlin’s back and lifting his head up to give as good as he got. Merlin let him take charge of that while he felt around and slid a finger inside him with little warning. Arthur stiffened beneath him, then relaxed.

“Another,” he said, mouthing at Merlin’s neck. “S’fine.”

“Just can’t stop giving instructions, can you?” Merlin muttered, but did as he was asked, applying more oil and sliding a second finger in alongside the first with minimal resistance. Immediately, he crooked his fingers up sharply and Arthur jerked.

“Shit,” he breathed. Merlin grinned and set to it, moving his fingers faster and leaving Arthur with a final, filthy kiss before moving his head down to his cock and taking as much as he could. Arthur actually moaned, and Merlin hoped he would have the presence of mind to remember to tease him about it tomorrow.

He felt Arthur tense and heard his breathing change and pulled his mouth off, looking up to see Arthur glaring at him, outraged.

“You did it first,” he reminded, and watched, amused, as Arthur rolled his eyes impatiently and reached for his own cock. Merlin watched him and promptly stopped moving his fingers. He waited. Arthur paused, almost touching it, and raised his eyebrows.

Merlin sighed in faux disappointment and reached for Arthur’s wrist with his free hand, guiding it to his side and pinning it to the bed with a firm grip. He waited for Arthur to catch on.

Comprehension dawned. Arthur’s eyes widened and Merlin could’ve sworn he flushed a little. Merlin smiled and looked into his eyes while he started to move his fingers again. He couldn’t resist.

“Good boy,” he whispered, half-joking but suddenly very intrigued to see Arthur press his head back into the pillow and swallow hard.

He kept up a steady pace and held Arthur’s wrist fast with his other hand until he was almost at the edge again. In the final seconds, he guided Arthur’s hand back to his own cock, Merlin’s hand on top, and stroked once, twice, before it was over.

“Merlin –” Arthur groaned and came over his stomach. Merlin pulled his fingers out less gently than he could have and Arthur shuddered. He wiped them on the sheets. Arthur did his best to pull a disapproving face, but on the whole a slightly stupid, blissed out expression was winning by rather a lot. Merlin allowed himself a few moments of smugness that he’d finally found a way to shut him up.

Arthur moved slowly, raising a hand to his stomach and lightly touching the come. Merlin considered it, then took his hand and licked the finger clean for him.

“Jesus Christ,” Arthur muttered, and Merlin laughed and flopped down beside him. Arthur’s breathing returned to normal and Merlin felt the heat radiating from his skin slowly cool.

Eventually Arthur made a noise of disgust and sat up, reaching to the end of the bed and wiping his stomach clean with some material that Merlin, initially distracted by the muscles at Arthur’s shoulder blades, belatedly realised was his own shirt.

“I’m billing you for that,” he said without heat.

“You’ll be doing laundry anyway,” Arthur dismissed, dropping it down the side of the bed.

“I do have to actually get to the laundry room, first,” Merlin said drily, adding at Arthur’s frown, “Ideally wearing something that isn’t… crusty.”

Arthur lay back down and flapped a dismissive hand. He paused, hand in the air. Merlin’s heart sank and he raised his own. They studied the matching strings. Their hands were almost touching, and as they looked disappointedly at the stubborn lines of red, a new thread appeared, joining the two with small golden spark.

“What,” Arthur began. Merlin just looked at it, resigned. That seemed about right. That thoroughly tracked with the way this all was going, in fact. He moved his hand away and the string lengthened. Back, and it shrank. After about a foot, it disappeared again but the light pulling sensation remained. He supposed he should be thankful the joining string didn’t remain physical, but gratitude was not the first word that came to mind, just then.

He sighed and lowered his hand, turning and leaning over Arthur to retrieve his shirt. His groin brushed against Arthur’s hip as he did so, sending a little jolt through his body. Arthur made an interested sound and Merlin paused where he was balanced, one hand outstretched towards the floor. He looked at Arthur, who shrugged. They spoke at the same time.

“It was only once –”

“Maybe –”

“And we didn’t –”

“All the way, did we?”

“We should –”

“Just to see.”

They looked at each other for another few seconds. Arthur’s eyes dropped to Merlin’s lips and he licked his own. Merlin gave up on his shirt and leaned in.

* * *

“Fuck, Merlin, _move_ ,” Arthur hissed, a bruising grip on Merlin’s forearm.

“Can you just – ah – shut up for five seconds, si – sire?” Merlin panted, injecting as much venom as he had the concentration for into the final syllable before rolling his hips and pushing back into Arthur ever so slightly harder than necessary.

Arthur’s eyes fluttered shut and Merlin viciously clamped down on the flip in his stomach. He reached almost unconsciously for Arthur’s face, pressing a thumb to his lower lip as the heat pooled in his stomach. Arthur let his mouth fall open but Merlin pulled his hand away before he could do something unwise like put a finger in Arthur’s mouth and tell him how beautiful he was like this.

Instead, he wrapped that hand around Arthur’s cock and stroked him, rhythm stuttering as his own finish neared, both panting and sweating as they came within a few seconds of each other. He pulled out slowly and almost went down, thighs trembling slightly as he lowered himself onto the bed beside Arthur.

Arthur cleared his throat. “That was…”

“Compatible?” Merlin offered, unable to move yet.

Arthur nodded dumbly. Merlin decided he had really earned closing his eyes for a few seconds, and did so.

* * *

He woke up to daylight, and scrunched his eyes closed, burying his face in the pillow. A pillow he gradually realised was very much not his. He cracked an eye and manfully did not jump out of his skin at the sight of a drooling Arthur eight inches from his face.

He allowed himself a moment of internal yelling before deciding that whatever was happening, he really had to get up. He watched Arthur for a few more guilty seconds, enjoying the disaster of his bedhead and the way his mouth hung open, before swinging out of bed and pulling his trousers and socks back on.

He was hopping around shoving his second boot on when Arthur made a confused noise into his pillow and lifted his head to squint at him blearily.

“What on earth are you doing?” he said irritably, voice rough with sleep.

“Baking a cake,” Merlin said just as irritably, looking around for his shirt. He felt rather than saw the moment Arthur remembered why he was shirtless and why the other side of the bed had been used. He found his shirt and held it out from himself with disgust, eyeing the stains which, unfortunately, did not look remotely like anything other than what they were.

Arthur rubbed at his eyes and sat up. He tilted his head and waved a hand at the shirt.

“Can’t you just –” Merlin waited, taking no small amount of pleasure in just how uncomfortable Arthur looked and refusing to help him out. Arthur gave up and gave an awkward little wiggle of his fingers. The familiar hurt rose in Merlin like bile and he swallowed it down.

“I’m not very – my precision isn’t great with that sort of thing – spell,” he corrected, tripping over the word, unused to using it in front of Arthur but determined not to let him avoid it. “Remember that purple shirt you lost?” Arthur looked confused. “You didn’t lose it. I scorched a hole in it trying to clean it.”

Arthur looked more awake now. “You – Aren’t you supposed to be – How can you be getting worse, with time?” He said finally.

Merlin pursed his lips. “I often wonder the same about you. Anyway, what am I supposed to do, wander around the castle covered in – or with no shirt on?”

“Obviously not,” Arthur said distractedly. Merlin frowned at him, then smirked as it clicked that Arthur was, in fact, distracted looking at him. He was staring at Merlin’s chest, and Merlin’s ego sat up in interest before he remembered the great big lovebite on his collarbone and realised Arthur was most likely staring at that. He raised the shirt to cover it. Arthur looked extremely pleased with himself.

Merlin lowered the shirt and crossed his arms. “At least a shirt will cover mine,” he said, with a meaningful look at Arthur’s neck, where his own memento struck a vivid purple against the pale skin. Arthur flushed and clapped a hand to his neck, glaring at him. Merlin smiled.

“What am I supposed to wear?” he repeated.

“Take one of mine,” Arthur said, irritated. “One of my shirts. Any one, I don’t care, just –”

“Are you insane? People will notice.”

“Notice what? That you look slightly less like you got dressed in the dark? Fine, walk around crusty, then.”

Merlin made a very mature face and stalked over to the wardrobe, rifling through the shirts and pulling out a red one.

“Not that –” Arthur started, but it was already on, and Merlin turned around to find a strange expression on Arthur’s face and his eyes once again glued to Merlin’s chest. Merlin rolled the sleeves up and looked up to see Arthur still looking.

“See something you like?” he said.

Arthur went pink. “It’s my shirt, of course I like it,” he said lamely. Merlin snorted. “I expect it back tomorrow, you know. Clean.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and set to picking up laundry. Arthur sighed and got up himself, dressing and sitting back on the bed to contemplate the string. Merlin paused and watched him as he moved his usual ring from his forefinger to cover the string. His forehead crinkled as he realised how loose it sat.

He chewed his lip and looked up at Merlin, who didn’t bother to pretend he hadn’t been watching. He waited. Arthur seemed to be on the edge of saying something, but was having trouble finding the words. He held up his hand awkwardly and touched the ring.

“Could you…?”

Merlin blinked. He thought he was owed a moment of surprise, considering Arthur had spent the previous month often literally closing his eyes at the mere thought of the magic, shutting down or running away from Merlin’s attempts to talk. He cleared his throat.

“You want me to make it…?” he said slowly.

“If you can,” Arthur said. “Although after what you said about the shirt, maybe not.”

“I – You’d let me?”

“Obviously, or I wouldn’t have said anything,” Arthur said stiffly. “Just don’t – destroy it, or melt it, or something. And you’ll have to put it back. After.”

Merlin set down the pile of laundry and walked slowly to the bed and sat down beside Arthur, who, to his amusement, seemed to be visibly fighting his fight or flight instinct. He swallowed and held a hand over Arthur’s. He hesitated, then whispered a few words and deliberately met Arthur’s eyes as he felt his own glow golden. Arthur looked away and Merlin clenched his jaw.

The ring glowed and shrank until Arthur made a pained sound. Merlin, distracted, stopped.

“Merlin, I really am going to lose the finger at this rate –”

“Sorry,” Merlin muttered, and refocused until the ring fit properly, covering the string. Arthur turned his hand over slowly and reached to touch it like it might burn him.

“Right. Well then. Problem solved,” he said uncomfortably. Merlin knew better than to hold his breath waiting for a thank you, and withdrew his own hand and looked glumly at the matching band of red.

“For you, maybe,” he said.

Arthur snorted. “I guarantee everyone will believe you’ve tied it around your own finger to remember something. How to do your job, for instance.”

Merlin shot him the finger. Arthur hesitated, then leaned back to rummage in his drawer, returning with a small, plain-looking ring, which he tossed to Merlin.

“Here, then. I was given this as a boy, so it might even fit your spindly fingers,” he said conversationally.

“You weren’t complaining about my –” Arthur shot him a warning look and he bit his tongue. He opened his hand and looked at the ring as Arthur stood and crossed the room.

“Don’t lose it, for God’s sake. And I want it back, when – when this is over.”

Merlin slipped it onto his little finger and made a fist, before shaking his head and standing. He tried not to think about the fact he was now wearing two things belonging to Arthur. He moved to pick up the laundry and the magic books.

“I’ll, um – I’ll talk to Gaius. We’ll keep looking,” he said.

“Leave those here, you’ll get yourself arrested,” Arthur said, indicating the books. “You can come back later. To keep looking,” he added, carefully studying the pages on his desk.

“Right. Yes. To get rid of this.” Arthur didn’t reply. Merlin nodded to himself, thoroughly thrown by the direction his morning had taken. He made for the door.

“Try not to get yourself cursed, today, would you, Merlin?”

That was more like it.

* * *

Gaius gave Merlin an entirely too knowing look when he returned to their chambers after dropping off the laundry.

“Find anything interesting?” he said lightly.

“What?”

“In the books,” Gaius clarified.

“No, we – No. Still there,” Merlin said bitterly, pointing at his hand, forgetting the ring. Gaius raised an eyebrow at it and Merlin flushed. “People might notice, so he –”

Gaius hummed and turned back to his leeches.

Merlin told himself sternly to get a grip. And to stop thinking about the taste of Arthur’s mouth. And the curve of his arse. He was still furious with him. Nothing had changed. And he needed to find a way to – they weren’t – anyway. He frowned in Gaius’s direction, and could have sworn he saw a smirk disappear from the old man’s face. He left, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

And promptly and almost literally ran into Gwen, narrowly avoiding knocking her over on his way to the armoury. He groaned internally.

“Gwen!” he said brightly.

“Merlin.” She smiled at him for a moment, then frowned and reached out at lightning speed to grab the material of his shirt. “How are – Is this Arthur’s shirt?” she said, sounding both delighted and oddly accusing.

“What? No. This is mine. I wear this all the time.” She gave him a look as he gently extracted it from her hand. Mistake. She grabbed his hand right back, and held it up, examining the ring.

“And what’s that? You never normally wear –”

Oh, Merlin had not thought this through enough to deal with Gwen. She noticed everything and she was like a dog with a bone when she got something into her head. And Merlin really wasn’t very good at lying to her, what with her soft smile and lovely brown eyes and her – iron bloody grip.

“Gwen. Gwen, you’re going to break my wrist,” he protested. She loosened her grip and waited.

He panicked. He wasn’t proud. “It’s – Arthur, he –”

She released his hand, satisfied, and punched him lightly in the shoulder, eyes twinkling. Merlin was lost.

“Oh, you guys! I knew you would make up!” She beamed at him. He smiled weakly back. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I really am happy for you, Merlin,” she added, kissing him lightly on the cheek before turning to leave. “You can tell me everything later.” He nodded dumbly, and she beamed at him again and left. What had just happened?

* * *

He headed down to the training field with a mild but constant feeling of dread. His mood was improved somewhat at the sight of the knights and Arthur roughhousing like small boys, Leon actually aggressively ruffling his hair as he fought to escape.

“Having trouble, sire?” he called, grinning. Gwaine looked up, delighted.

“Merlin! The very man. Princess, why don’t we ask him, instead?”

Arthur paled almost imperceptibly. “Gwaine, really, I –”

“Do you know who gave him this cracker, then?” Gwaine said cheerfully, hauling a mortified Arthur upright and pointing at the mark on his neck. “I mean, we’re just happy he finally got some, but he won’t tell us who –”

Merlin seriously contemplated making up a spell to force the earth to swallow him up as he felt himself go red. He opened his mouth, but he’d hesitated for too long. The knights stared at him, then broke into cheers and laughs, clapping Arthur on the back.

“I knew it!” Gwaine crowed. He marched over and threw an arm around Merlin’s shoulders, sobering slightly. “Good on you, mate. I won the pool,” he added, increasing his volume for the benefit of the knights. “Get ready to pay up, ladies,” he said, to a chorus of groans.

Arthur and Merlin’s eyes met and they shared a resigned look. What the fuck?

* * *

After what became a particularly vicious training session, Merlin trailed awkwardly up to the castle after Arthur and helped him change. He had, somewhere along the way, learnt his lesson about training and ordered a bath in advance, which he made sure was still steaming with a wave of his hand and a sigh from Arthur.

Arthur was still embarrassed, and had chosen, typically, to be snippy about it.

“Didn’t you order any scent for the bath? Honestly, Merlin.”

“I think the purpose of this one is to make you smell less,” Merlin said blandly.

“And my armour was practically rusted away today, you’ll have to do it all again tomorrow.”

“Now you’re just making things up. Can’t handle a little teasing, sire?”

“A little – you obviously didn’t see the colour of your own face. And people _cannot_ know about this,” Arthur said incredulously, gesturing between them. Merlin winced and Arthur looked at him sharply. “Merlin, it’s been one day, who did you tell?”

“No one! Gwen figured it out,” he admitted. “I think. She certainly figured something out, anyway.”

“What do you mean she figured it out, she can’t just know, she’s,” – Merlin raised an eyebrow and Arthur deflated slightly – “Alright fine, that one, miniscule thing might not be entirely your fault.”

“Your generosity astounds me as always.”

“Shut up, Merlin,” he snapped, finishing stripping in the middle of the room, not having bothered with the changing screen. Something must have shown on Merlin’s face. “What? It’s not like you haven’t seen it all, is it?”

Merlin nodded without looking away from the sheen of sweat on Arthur’s chest. Arthur clicked his fingers impatiently.

“My eyes are up here, thank you, Merlin,” he said, but he drew himself up a little, utterly unashamed. “Honestly, if you’re going to be so distractible, maybe we should just…” He looked at Merlin, who was still waiting for sounds to be translated into meaning.

The penny dropped. “Oh! Oh.” He smirked. “Can’t stay away?” Arthur made a face as Merlin dropped the mail he had been holding to the floor and walked towards him with purpose.

Arthur snaked a hand around to the small of his back and pulled him in. “Arrogant,” he whispered, and met Merlin’s lips for a thoroughly indecent kiss.

“Yes, you are,” Merlin agreed a little breathlessly, tangling his fingers in Arthur’s damp hair and pulling hard, gratified at the sharp intake of breath he received in response. He grinned and entirely forgot any promises he might have made to himself about being cross with Arthur. He paused, briefly. “The books,” he said, with regret. “We really do have to keep –”

“Later,” Arthur promised impatiently. Merlin shrugged easily, and went with it. Arthur tried his best to steer them towards the bed, but Merlin laughed and pushed him away with an exaggerated sniff.

“Bath first, I think,” he said. Arthur glared and muttered something, but splashed his way into the bath, dunking his head and rubbing at it roughly before running the soap half-heartedly over his arms and chest.

Merlin leaned against the wall and enjoyed the view. Inordinately amused with himself, he decided it would improve at least his evening to make magical petals rain on the bath, and did so.

“Merlin!” Arthur hissed. “I thought you said no scent for this one,” he grumbled, picking up a petal and looking at it with wonder despite himself.

“I lied. I forgot to ask for it,” Merlin said, and pushed himself off the wall and walked to kneel beside the tub. Arthur looked at him with suspicion. “Plans change,” he said, and rolled up a sleeve and reached under the water. Arthur went very still. Merlin grinned.

* * *

There was a great deal of water on the floor. And petals on the bed.

* * *

Merlin decided some boundaries were very much in order, and refused to let himself fall asleep in Arthur’s bed again. Arthur himself was already half asleep and mumbled something as Merlin extracted himself, attempting to hold onto his arm. Merlin shook him off and dressed silently, making his way back to Gaius’s, peering around the door and very disappointed to actually see him present.

“Oh. You’re here,” he said, walking in.

“I live here,” Gaius said. “So you do, at least in theory,” he added pointedly.

Merlin gestured at himself. “I’m here, aren’t I? What’s for dinner?”

“It was stew, three hours ago. I couldn’t say what it is now.”

“Gaius.”

Gaius rolled his eyes and pointed to the bowl and bread he’d left out on the table. Merlin sighed and sat down heavily on the bench. Too heavily. He winced and shifted. He looked up to see Gaius watching him with his trademark exasperation. “What?” Merlin said defensively. Gaius shook his head and turned back to his book.

* * *

The next day, Merlin avoided Arthur quite successfully, right up to the point where Arthur cornered him in the stables and they rubbed off against each other like horny teenagers.

* * *

And Merlin did mean to keep looking for a solution to the string, honestly he did, but the books were still in Arthur’s chambers, and well, so was Arthur. And then Arthur was bent over the table, books shoved to one side, and Merlin was aware of just about nothing but the sound of Arthur’s gasps and the tight heat around him, including how they’d got there, but he figured he’d think about it later.

* * *

And he did try to think about it, really, but Arthur’s tongue was doing something fantastic and the resolve he’d entered the room with dissolved as he pushed back and moaned Arthur’s name like a prayer. Or something.

* * *

Enough was enough, really. Merlin was having a remarkably quiet week, magical-threat-wise and while the sex was a perfectly pleasant, athletic, surprising, all-consuming distraction, he and Arthur really needed to talk. Preferably somewhere there was no bed. Or a table. Or, once, and uncomfortably, even a floor. He shook his head and kept walking.

He was pretty sure Arthur was in a meeting with the knights, possibly one he had been slated to attend, but Arthur had made a great many promises the previous night, and Merlin was fairly certain he remembered receiving or possibly extracting permission to skive. He twisted the ring on his little finger in what had quickly become a habit, and knocked the door, not waiting for an answer.

Arthur frowned at him as he entered, but the knights all smiled and greeted him.

“Merlin!”

“Maybe you can get him to see sense.”

Merlin laughed. “Almost done?”

“Almost,” Arthur said, shifting the papers in front of him. “Can’t you wait outside? This is sensitive information, you know.”

“I can keep a secret,” Merlin said indignantly. Arthur gave him a flat look. He rolled his eyes and turned back around to make for the door, which promptly burst open. He jumped back against the wall.

A wild-looking man in a cloak stood, soon followed by two slightly panting and put-out looking guards.

“Sorry, Your Highness, he was…insistent,” one said.

“And fast,” the other muttered.

Arthur gave a tight smile. “I’m afraid the day for petitions is –”

“I didn’t come to beg at your feet!” the man burst out. Merlin started to get a bad feeling about this. The man took a few steps into the room. The guards stayed put, rolling their eyes. Merlin took a step closer to him, magic thrumming under his skin. The man had already started his rant.

“…Bringing this kingdom to wrack and ruin you are, just like your father, persecuting those who are different, special, even…”

Merlin really wished he had chosen a grievance other than the magic thing. He could give him a list.

“…Arrogant, selfish and self-centred, like all royals. You do nothing for your people but watch them suffer!”

Merlin was pleased to have something he could refute.

“Hang on,” he said, stepping forward, then twisted to narrowly avoid a relatively weak blast of magic. He glared at the sorcerer, who had apparently not even noticed that he had missed, so committed was he to his monologue.

He gestured expansively and the knights and Arthur’s chairs all tipped back with a crash, throwing them to the ground. Merlin waited.

The man stood, clicking his fingers uselessly. “Oh, hell, how does it go?” he said under his breath, before landing on the right spell and fighting to maintain the resultant spark. Merlin almost laughed as the knights clambered warily to their feet, hands on swords.

“Stay back!” The man yelled. “You’re a disgrace, Pendragon, you’ll never be anything, you’re your father all over again and the day will come when the people –”

Merlin, who had moved almost right beside the man while he was distracted, lost patience and whistled sharply. The sorcerer’s head whipped around and Merlin punched him square in the mouth, sending a painful jolt up his arm.

Beneath his outer calm, he was genuinely surprised how angry he was, and pulled his magic back a little, realising with some unease that he could with quite little effort let go and vaporise this sorry excuse for a sorcerer.

“He’s not his father,” he said instead, flexing his hand and speaking calmly. Well, he thought it was calmly, anyway, but several of the knights exchanged a look that said otherwise. “And he’s going to be a great king,” he said. “Someday,” he added, looking over his shoulder at a very surprised Arthur.

The man sat dumbly on the ground, staring at the blood on his hand where he had touched his mouth. “You hit me,” he said pathetically. Merlin, in a mean-spirited moment, twitched towards him like he was going to do it again and the man flinched back.

“Guards,” Arthur interrupted in a bored voice. The two guards jumped guiltily to attention, having been not very much use at all during what at a stretch, counted as an assassination attempt. “Take him away, please.”

“Dungeons, my lord?”

Arthur hesitated. “City limits, please.” The guards stared, uncertain. “He’s banished,” he said firmly.

“But he’s a –”

“Banished,” Arthur repeated, at that annoying regal pitch that perfectly overrode the other person.

“Right, yes, right away, sire.” The guards hauled him up and dragged him away, and the knights laughed uneasily and joked about Arthur being a trouble magnet, and what a good thing it was Merlin was there to save the day, huh? They filed out, clapping Merlin good-naturedly on the shoulder as they went, until just he and Arthur were left.

Arthur moved towards him and reached slowly for his hand with its reddened knuckles. He brushed a thumb over them, then dropped it.

“Why didn’t you use…”

“Arthur, the room was full of people.”

“Right.”

“Why didn’t you,” – Merlin swallowed – “Have him burned? He was a sorcerer.”

“Not a very good one.”

“No,” Merlin agreed. “But you saw him doing magic. Everyone did, in fact. And he wanted to hurt you with it. So why not? I’ll do it for you, if you really want, that man’s a danger by sheer incompetence.”

“Jesus, Merlin, do I need a reason? I would’ve thought you’d be glad. It sets a bad precedent, is all.”

“I think that precedent has already been quite thoroughly set by your father. Besides, what precedent, punishing people who wish you harm? And how many more of these encounters do you expect to have?”

“Merlin, I simply –”

“No, really. How many enemies do you actually have? Should we just invite them all here at once, take care of it like that? Because I could – ”

“For God’s sake, Merlin, haven’t you noticed no one has been executed for sorcerery since – since my father? I can hardly keep using his laws if I’m going to change them, can I?”

Merlin paused as he prepared to launch into his plan to mass-teleport Arthur’s enemies to the middle of the ocean. “You’re going to what?” Arthur looked uncomfortable. “No, really, what did you just say? What laws?” His voice was taking on a frantic edge.

“What, was I just going to keep shutting my eyes for the rest of our lives?”

Merlin viciously burst the little bubble of warm feeling that rose in his chest at the phrase ‘rest of our lives’.

“What?”

“You can’t seriously have thought I was going to ignore this forever.”

“Of course I bloody thought that, it’s been a month since you found out and two since your father died, and you’ve barely looked at me, much less discussed your plans to lift the law currently threatening my life! You shut me down every time I tried to talk to you about it!”

“I said not now!”

“A month!”

“I needed time to adjust!”

“So tell me that, how hard can it be?”

“You met my father, you can imagine exactly how hard he made those laws to undo!”

“Have I finally lost it?” Merlin wondered. “I cannot believe you, I – Why, then? Why are you –”

“Merlin, if you dare to ask me that I swear to God I’ll – ” Arthur broke off and looked away, taking a deep breath.

Merlin stared at him. “I have to go,” he muttered, and left, mind racing.

* * *

“Gaius,” he announced, for the second time that week.

“What is it now, boy?”

“Arthur. He’s – ”

“Really, Merlin, I thought you had resolved this?”

“What?” Merlin said, confused.

Gaius pointed to the string.

“What? No, not that, we’ve just been –” He broke off at a warning look from Gaius. “Never mind. He’s lifting the magic ban, Gaius.”

“Oh. About time. A cause for celebration, no?” Gaius said cautiously, looking as though he was on his guard to prevent Merlin from telling him about said celebration at all costs.

“Why didn’t he bloody tell me before now?”

Gaius sighed. “Knowing him, he probably wanted to wait until it was done as a – a romantic gesture, God help us.”

“A what? He doesn’t – Does he? He –”

Gaius gave him a pitying look. “Yes, Merlin. Where have you been?”

Merlin looked at the string with panic. “But we can’t actually be…”

“Magic says otherwise. So did I; I really think I was perfectly clear about what that meant,” Gaius added disapprovingly.

Merlin muttered something about it being open to interpretation, and spoke up at a sharp look from Gaius. He scratched at the back of his neck, avoiding Gaius’s eyes. “…Compatible. We thought it might just mean…”

“Merlin.”

“Right, right.” He chewed his lip. “But we’ve barely spoken in a month. We fight constantly. I call him an arsehole a dozen times a day.”

“Do you mean it?”

“Of course I mean it, he’s – ” Merlin realised, with utter horror, that the adjectives and emotions floating to the surface of his mind were not at all the ones he had intended. His mouth fell open. “Oh, God, I don’t mean it, do I?”

Gaius sighed. “Once again, Merlin, I can rest easy knowing the fate of the kingdom is in such wise hands.”

Merlin snapped out of his stupor to glare at him, before another thought hit him around the head. “Wait, does everyone know but me?”

“And Arthur, I expect. Honestly, between the two of you I don’t know how anything gets – There was a pool,” Gaius finished hastily.

“Pool? Gwaine said – I thought it was just for the – you were in it?” Merlin did not shriek.

Gaius shrugged. “I thought it would take you two much longer. Didn’t account for magical intervention. You win some, you lose some, I suppose.”

“I have to go,” Merlin said, for the second time that hour.

* * *

He marched into Arthur’s chambers. Arthur looked up and frowned.

“Merlin? What are you – ”

“It has come to my attention,” Merlin interrupted, “That you like me.”

Arthur paled. “What? Who told you that? I don’t –”

“...And I – Wait, what?”

“No, what were you saying?”

“You don’t like me?” Merlin said, oddly hurt for someone who had only been made aware of this possibility five minutes ago.

Arthur dragged a hand over his face and set his pen down, weighing up his options. “Would I change that law for just anyone?” he said finally.

“I should fucking hope so, it’s barbaric and – ”

Arthur held up a hand. “Alright, point made. But the fact remains I’m doing it for – for you. Did you really not get that?”

“How was I supposed to know?” Merlin half-yelled, before reining it in a bit. “You only told me an hour ago!”

“Everyone else seems to know,” Arthur said sourly. “The number of times I’ve been congratulated this week.”

“Oh, hell,” Merlin said, feeling the familiar little tightening in his chest that he was starting to suspect wasn’t (just) irritation.

Arthur looked a little more confident, now. “Well, do you offer to kill incompetent sorcerers for everyone?”

“Maybe,” Merlin tried weakly. “It’s a public service.”

Arthur smirked. “I thought I was the slow one.”

“But we – you’re so –” Merlin struggled to describe his constant and simultaneous urge to punch Arthur and kiss him senseless.

“You like it,” Arthur said smugly.

“Oh, fuck.”

Arthur shifted where he sat. “I was reading, I - I found out something about the string, you know.”

“You can read, then?” Merlin said automatically. “Sorry. What?”

“It goes away or – or at least invisible, once we figure it out and admit it.”

Merlin slid the ring down his finger and looked at it, plucking at the end of the thread that even now pulled towards Arthur. “So you really –”

“Yeah,” Arthur said with a smile. “God help me, I do really.” He stood and walked over to Merlin and held out a hand.

Merlin took it with some apprehension. The loose ends of the string glowed and joined again, then the whole thing glowed gold and faded from view. The sensation of something tied there remained.

Merlin closed his eyes. “So apparently I love you a little bit.”

“That’s embarrassing.”

“We’re literally soulmates, you complete arse. Well?”

Arthur sighed. “Apparently I do too,” he said with a grin, and kissed him.

* * *

“Gwaine?”

“Merlin!”

“What, specifically, did you win the pool for?”

Gwaine stared at him. “You and Princess getting your heads out of your arses and realising what all that pigtail-pulling was, obviously.”

“Like confessing our feelings, specifically? Getting together as a couple?”

“…Yes?”

“Right, well. Who had this week?”

“…What? But the – you and he –”

“Many times,” Merlin agreed. “In many positions, and on many surfaces. But we just admitted,” – _realised, for some of us_ , Arthur muttered behind him – “That we liked each other. And now we’re together. Today, not last week. New month. You didn’t win.”

“What the fuck, Merlin?”

“Who had this month?” Leon pulled out a sheet of paper and scanned it. He winced.

“Gwen was closest.”

The rest of the knights sat in silence.

“She really doesn’t like people not paying her,” Elyan said miserably.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading + please let me know if you liked it!
> 
> and feel free to check out my other fics, my other canon era series is similar to this in tone!
> 
> i'm also on [tumblr](https://idlestories.tumblr.com/) under the same handle


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